


Morning Rituals

by orphan_account



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [16]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Morning Rituals

Bond and Q didn’t have an early morning ritual, as such. Unless the ritual was inconsistency, in which case, they aced it four times out of five.

 

5\. 

Bond was going to break Q’s phone. For the fourth morning in a row, it had incessantly rung before five in the morning, waking him and Q up to whatever international crisis was under way. Q would answer it dutifully and fall out of bed, sometimes showering before getting dressed if there was time, and left to go to the office. If it was bad enough, Bond would accompany him. The mornings where he went back to sleep and woke up to Q’s cold pillow and an empty apartment were amongst the worst. He loved waking up to Q snuggled into him. There just wasn’t a better way to start the day.

 

4\. 

Q woke slowly out of a very good dream, filled with Bond’s hands and lips, touching everywhere, kissing everything. He rolled over on the mattress, fully prepared to wake Bond up and finish what the dream started, but his hand hit the empty side of the bed and he felt disappointment wash through him. Of course, James was in Turkey. Or Kazakhstan. Or Andorra. Or some other equally far away country, completing a mission that kept him away from Q. Q sighed, and looked at the time. Well, if he couldn’t be with Bond, he could at least get to work and be there when the agent woke up. He staggered out of bed and turned on the shower. Cold.

 

3\. 

Bond understood the necessities of Q’s job. It was important, he knew, that Q was one hundred percent focused, available at all times, on the scene permanently in case something went disastrously wrong. But the inevitable all-nighters had crept to almost three nights a week and he was seriously considering mutiny when he found Q asleep in his office, again. It didn’t help that the plate of food was untouched. He gently shook Q’s shoulder, who awoke and jumped out of his chair in a second, picking up a conversation he’d been having when he fell asleep.

“If we counteract the gravitation towards the centre, we can easily maintain the balance, R. Have you tried aluminium foil...?” Q trailed off and looked around, seemingly lost.

“Right,” Bond said. “Home we go.”

 

2\. 

Q nodded at the night-staff in Medical. He knew them all by their first names, and appreciated the fact that they never kicked him out after visiting hours. Bond hadn’t woken up yet, but would at any time, and Q was waiting, like he always did. It wasn’t anything too serious, a few fractured ribs and a slight concussion, and the nurse assured him that Mr Bond would be fine if Q wanted to go home, but Q stayed where he was, sitting in his chair, guarding his agent even when he was on home soil. Just waiting.

 

1.

Q woke to the feeling of a pair of very familiar lips tracing his spine. Fingers played across his stomach, underneath his shirt, and a muscled leg was wrapped around his thighs. He shuddered as the lips stopped and sucked at a point just below his ribcage.

“Good morning, Q.”

Q turned slowly, the sunlight peeking through the curtain outlining Bond’s smiling face. He reached out and ran his hand from Bond’s temple, down to his jaw. Bond leant into it and closed his eyes, so Q leaned forward and kissed him.

Bond kissed him back, languidly at first, but with growing enthusiasm that soon had Q panting.

“James,” Q whispered, and Bond pulled Q on top of him, holding him tightly, pressing them together.

“No world disasters,” Bond said, kissing the corner of Q’s mouth before moving down. “No alarms,” he grazed Q’s jugular before going sideways. “No injuries,” he sucked on Q’s earlobe, memorising the gasp before moving on. “Just you,” he bit Q’s collarbone, bringing forth a cry. “And me.”

Q couldn’t think of a better way to begin the morning.

 

Bond and Q didn’t have a morning ritual. They often didn’t even have mornings. But when they did, it was perfect.


End file.
